Long Live the King
by livexlovexlose
Summary: Summary: Set in the kingdom of Mystic Falls. Elena is a maid of the Royal Palace, living the life she was forced into, not born into. Damon is the eldest Salvatore prince, recently brought out into society to marry. Fate brings these two people from completely different worlds together, and now it'll do anything to tear them apart. AU/AH
1. The Silver Tray

Chapter One:

It was another bright and early morning in the small monarchy of Mystic Falls. Elena Gilbert, a maid of the royal palace, got up from the servants' cottage on the outskirts of its campus and trailed across the giant field of grass to the service stair case. Sun rays shot out behind trees from the west, casting a big shadowed blur at the entrance. Maybe Miss Gilbert should've acknowledged it. Maybe it was a foreshadowing of the day ahead of her. But Elena chose to ignore its message. With her life, thinking of a half empty glass was never a good way of thinking. She exited the stairwell and entered the kitchen.

She lived to get be. She had no goals nor dreams; she couldn't afford those luxuries. Ever since she was thirteen, she kept herself busy with work at the palace to help her mother support her and her brother, Jeremy. Her father, a royal advisor, had died from a fatal illness just before. Elena and Isobel Gilbert, the females of the small and newly broken family, had lost their titles and fortune. Jeremy, however, still inherited a place in the royal court as the royal advisor, for it is a privilege handed to the sons of every family of the initial court of Mystic Falls, all the way to when it was founded centuries ago. He was the only one in the family that could afford to have a future, and as the good older sister she liked to believe she was, Elena did the best she could to make sure it was a good future.

Now she was the age of seventeen. Jeremy was still only fifteen, but learned more about the world than she ever would. Every day, while she was in the royal palace working as a maid, he was in a different part of the palace, learning about politics and royalty.

She didn't often spend the night in the servants' cottage. They still had their estate on the far side of the kingdom and close to the royal stables. Why the stables and the palace were placed so far apart, she had no idea. But she usually slept in that home. Today, however, was a special day in the Mystic Falls kingdom. The eldest prince, Damon Salvatore, was being brought out to society, meaning that the king wants him to marry. She was to help prepare for the party tonight. The usual thing, like set tables and clean a bit. Then, as the sister of the soon-to-be advisor of the soon-to-be king of their land, she was invited informally. Not as a servant, but as a guest. The thought made her very excited.

She's never actually met anyone of the royal circle before. She's only heard the stories about them from Jeremy, or seen their public rallies at Fell's Church on Sundays. Jeremy spoke of the royal siblings, Prince Damon and Prince Stefan, generously. From how he spoke, however, it seemed that he was closer in relations to Stefan, which made some sense. Stefan, who was a few months older than Elena, was closer in age to him than his twenty-four year old brother. Stefan, apparently, loved to ride and fence while Damon always ran off and did his own thing. They were extremely bright and kind, but sometimes not towards each other.

The housekeeper, the person who controlled the kitchen and staff of the palace, had told Elena to fetch something. It was a silver serving tray that Bonnie, one of her close friends and another maid, had left in one of the rooms in the third floor, which was the Princes' floor. This was a bit unusual for her. Never had she been trusted going up her, or really never did she want to.

"Elena!" She heard her name. She looked behind her to see Jeremy, much to her surprise. He usually wasn't in the palace so early, and when he was, she never actually saw him.

At fifteen, he was pretty built and mature-looking. He wore casual trousers and a button-ruffle shirt with the sleeves risen a third up his arms. It showed off his toned arms that now consumed her in a giant brotherly bear hug. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he released her.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Elena exclaimed. "Bonnie accidentally left a tray in one of the rooms and Rose, the housekeeper, found out and asked me to take care of it. Otherwise, you know you wouldn't have the pleasure of seeing little ole me."

"Well, I'm glad I did. But me? Yeah, well, my mentor, Alaric, wanted me to meet him here for a change." Jere replied.

"I see. Well, I wish you good luck with all your studies. I have to find a silver tray without getting in anyone's way and all. I'll see you back at the estate at sunset, right?" Jeremy nodded. She grabbed the back of his head in both head, pulled his neck down to her and reached up—for he was just that much taller than she was—to give his forehead a kiss. Finally they went their separate ways.

The first room Elena looked for was the room of the Lady of Fell's Church, Alexia, and the first cousin of the Royal Brothers. She was an early riser, as the help of the house made it their business to know, and was out of the room already. Elena thought it'd look better if she turned the room as well. As she did so, she did not find the tray.

The next room was the younger prince's study. Elena cursed under her breath when she realized she had to go in it. She also cursed at Rose, who failed to mention what room to go in! Though, she only had to look around the room to know the ray wasn't there, still. She hated so much coming up or conversing with royalty or people related closely to royalty. That didn't include Jeremy for biased reasons. But she didn't know why she disliked it so much.

The door she knocked on was that of the youngest prince himself. "Come in!" said a voice from the other side of the door. Elena rolled her eyes and sighed. He was home. She slowly turned the door knob and entered the room. Prince Stefan Salvatore was there in a dashing attire: nude colored trousers and blue button shirt with half his chest exposed. Elena saw this and turned away with only a gasp to leave her lips. He was royalty and she practically saw him shirtless! This action of hers earned her a laugh. "You can look now…" the prince's voice joked moments later.

Elena peaked to see that he had the top buttons now fastened properly and relieved the air she didn't know she kept in. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but there have been some mishaps downstairs. I don't mean to speak out of place, but have you seen a silver tray?" She thought about what she had blurted out. Nope, there was probably nothing rude to royalty in her words, but she mentally reminded herself to tell Bonnie to slap her if she did.

He looked at her like she was mad. He had no idea how much she wished she were hysterical instead of this alternative. "You aren't speaking out of place at all, Miss. However, I don't think I have seen what you are looking for.

"Oh," Elena sighed. Her devastation was obvious. "I'm sorry to bother you, your highness. If you happen to need something, I'll be on this floor, frantically searching for that tray. And I'll get someone to turn your room."

"Thank you, but I've got it. You look a bit stressed anyway," he replied.

From that, Elena's back straightened and her eyes looked at everything with much more alert. "I assure you, you highness, that it would be no trouble at all."

There was a glimmering, twinkling star in his eye that Elena didn't like as he said "I insist" with his fairytale prince voice. The voice annoyed her. After she respectfully curtsied and excused herself from the room, she caught herself trying to refrain from rolling her eyes. To her, he seemed too cocky for his own good. And that was Stefan, the supposedly nicer and more respectful brother. Yeah, this brother was basically shirtless in front of her. Elena did not want to know if a royal ego could get any bigger for the eldest Salvatore brother, as Jeremy so often hinted.

The search for this tray was killing her. She had a lot more things to do if she wanted to go to the ball tonight. She didn't want to be parading through every room of the royal princes' floor all day, as it seemed that was how long it would take. She checked all five wash rooms, two empty guest rooms, the floor's library, and the eldest prince's study. There was no sign of this mysterious silver tray anywhere. She stopped in the middle of the finely carpeted hallway and fingered through her hair, dumped at the top in a neat ponytail that fell to her mid back.

She sighed. Two things occupied the priority in her mind, one good while the other was pretty bad. The good thing: she only had one room left to go. The bad thing: it was Prince Damon's room.

She stalled going in there long enough, and it was inevitable. She knocked on the dark wooden door three times. She paused before knocking again with a little more force. Through the door, she heard the faint sound of shuffling. Also, a loud whisper. "Shit."

Yup, Prince Damon was in there. Seconds later, she heard a soothing voice coo. "Come in," it said. She did as she was told, but gasped from utter surprise at the first thing she saw.

It must've been a record or something! First, she was sent on this goose chase for a tray that she was starting to believe didn't exist. Why did one tray matter, anyway? Then she has an awkward encounter with Prince Stefan. From that she realized why she didn't like conversing with royals. But right now had to take the cake. Now, she was staring at a completely shirtless prince with rousers that weren't even buttoned in a room where clothes were a decoration and a half-naked, short haired brunette was mopped over the bed.

"I am _so _sorry, your highness," Elena practically yelled out at the scene. _Why did you tell me to come in when you're not even dressed? _She wanted to ask, but she held her tongue. She turned on her heel to leave and seek refuge with Bonnie or something to the extent, but someone grasped he wrist to prevent her. Since he 'bobbed-beauty' was Sleeping Beauty on the bed, the only person it could've been was the cocky older brother. Elena held her breath. _Why, _she thought. _Why today? Why me?_

She turned to face him, though she need not dare to star into his eyes as he said, "What is it you want" in a tone that was too cold. Surprisingly, though, Elena found that she preferred it to Prince Stefan's much too cozy appeal.

"A tray…" she blurted out, panic seeping heavily with every breath between words. "It's a silver tray, your highness," she said with more confident, though it still lacked a specific quality that would have made it believable.

"A tray?" he repeated with humor, as if it was a practical joke or something. All she could do was nod, still refusing to look him in the eye. "Well, you're in luck." Ha! "It's on the bedside table." He let go of her wrist to retrieve it for her. "Is there anything else?" She shook her head. "Good. You're dismissed!" She curtsied and scurried away as fast as she could from the room and to the kitchen two stories down.

She handed the tray to Rose with a fake smile. As she passed Bonnie, who was washing some dishes with an innocent look on her face, she whispered in her ear, "I have a lot to tell you but let me summarize it in one little phrase: You owe me."


	2. The Ball

**A/N: I uploaded! Yay! I have a new system that I'm going to try on my uploading. I'm not going to upload a chapter until the next chapter is finished. Meaning, that if I update Chapter 2, then I have Chapter 3 done. But I won't upload 3 until 4 is done. Also, I'd like to say: Ignore the grammar and spelling errors. Microsoft Word says it's fine, and I haven't found time to edit it. Thanks for reading! **

Chapter Two:

Throughout the whole day, Elena could not concentrate. Her mind was clouded by wayward thoughts that she really couldn't afford if she were to be happy. The only time she felt sane was when she was back at the Gilbert Estate, soaking in a bath. She was prepping herself for the ball. She had to be sure to not picture a partly bare chest on Prince Stefan if she saw him and definitely not imagine a half-naked god when she saw Prince Damon.

The water had turned cold and her fingers had become wrinkled. She got out and dried herself, dressing into the gown her mother had lain out for her. It was a pastel pink corset dress, rimmed with golden lace at the ends of its three quarter sleeves. The dress began at the collar bone and tugged tightly on her arm, since the sleeves didn't hang in her shoulders. The corset she was wearing made what little bust she had look seducing, if possible, but she tried not to think like that after the morning she had. Stitched into the pink dress were some of the most breathtaking and complex designs Elena had seen on any dress. She stared at herself in a looking glass, catching her breath in her throat.

There was a knock at the door; her mother countered in, gasping and gazing at her daughter in utter awe. "Simply stunning," Isobel cooed. "My beautiful daughter, Elena." She squeezed he shoulders tightly in an attempt to assure the seventeen year old of its truth. She tugged on strands of her silky soft brown hair, fixing the parting of her roots in the mirror.

Thank you, mother," Elena replied in a whisper. She agreed. She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful.

The carriage is leaving in twenty minutes. Your brother is waiting for you downstairs." Isobel stated. She nodded, still gaping.

Most of her life, Elena felt insignificant. Before the age of thirteen, she was prized and jeweled. After her father died, it was as if she was a completely different person in everyone's eyes. She was treated like she was irrelevant, and soon that was how she felt. It wasn't the life she was born into that she was leading and it felt as if her birth rights were being taken from her.

It was a very selfish way of thinking, and she learned early on that if she were ever fully going to be happy, she had to stop. It was what she liked to think as her selflessness that got her to where she was, he purity that had allowed her brother the life they would've shared if things were different. She never really felt like all the things she was forced into or chose to do mattered very much, until now, when she stared at her reflection. She glowed.

The carriage pulled to the velvet covered stair case that led to the main entrance to the Royal Palace. The stone railings were decorated in expensive looking ribbons and white peonies. The lights of the castle exploded into the window of the carriage. It was funny for her to think that only a few hours ago, she was helping create this masterpiece. Elena reached for Jeremy's hand for comfort, in attempt to calm the nerves in her core. It didn't help one bit. Jeremy gripped hers tightly in response.

A man opened the carriage door and Elena was the first to step out into the beautiful maroon velvet carpeting that marked the path to inside the castle. Jeremy followed. As they walked (she pacing respectfully behind her brother), the bows and curtsies that they did and received seemed to haze away, like instinct or routine.

The ballroom was decorated beautifully. The double stairwell that rimmed the left and white walls of its entrance had people marching up and down, mingling with others. The floor itself wasn't as crowded, though there were clumps of people here and there, dancing to the small quintet playing in the corner. It was a private ball, where an invitation or connection was needed. Because of this, the guest population was a little small. Scanning the crowd, Elena estimated about a hundred guests. Overall, the scene made her smile inside, even though it made her three times as nervous.

"There is my mentor, Alaric," Jeremy whispered to Elena, pointing to a man in a corner. Elena had never actually met Alaric. He had fair brown hair on his head that appeared again roughly on his chin. He wore a homely smile, though his eyes didn't match. They were rough as well. Handsome, no doubt. He was conversing with another man, who held a women on his arm. Jeremy tugged Elena's hand, urging to introduce her to them. She followed without a noticeable hesitation.

"Hello, Jeremy," Alaric greeted, never taking his eyes off her. "And you must be Elena. I'm Alaric Saltzman. It's nice to finally meet you."

Elena nodded then curtsied politely.

"This is Tyler Lockwood of the Lockwood Estate," Alaric continued after introducing himself, "And his wife, Hayley." They exchanged formalities.

Then they went into talking about politics and how Mrs. Flowers allowed her pigs to run amuck. She knew Mrs. Flowers; she was a widow and her gate used to hold her pigs in collapsed a few months ago due to a terrible storm. She couldn't afford to rebuild it, but they didn't mention this as they conversed about it. The proceeded to discuss things that Elena couldn't, no matter how much she tried (which was a lot), find any amusement in. She let herself gradually drift out of the conversation by staring around the floor and room at the many people and decorations. Ten or so minutes later, she excused herself entirely and went to the refreshments table. She grabbed a glass of white wine and sipped it slowly.

One arm was crossed around her chest, resting against the tough shell of her corset. The other held her glass. She rested her back against the wall next to the table and continued to study the room, along with all its trimmings. She simply loved each little detail of the decor. She took the time she had to herself to take it all in…and catch her breath. She wasn't used to the breathtaking corset. Literally.

She then looked pointedly at one of the serving table's legs and the little specks of silver that can be seen under it. Her surprise could be imagined when she found out that Rose had used the tray she spent so much time and effort searching for to balance out a serving table that had been rocking back and forth. Not only was it an awkward use of a tray like that, it also added on to the frustration she had, ignited firstly by the egos and skin of both Salvatore princes.

She heard a cough. The sound was all too familiar and made Elena turn her head, only to see her best friend in a white uniform dress in pristine shape, with a silver tray in her hand. Excited, Elena ran and hugged Bonnie by her waist, shocking her and leaving her shaking and trying to balance the food on her silver tray. "Oh, thank Heavens! You are here!" Elena rejoiced quietly but audibly against the fabric of Bonnie's clothes. She continued, whispering to her ear this time, "Now you can keep me company! They all have heads as big as their confidence and I find myself impeccably bored! Jeremy and his mentor I must exclude from this."

Bonnie laughed. "Hello to you too, Elena. But may I suggest that you let go of me? Unless you want their conversations directed to you," she negotiated. Elena knew she was right, and let go of her, allowing her to contain herself. Elena pretended to fix the imaginary creases that were impossible to make on her tight corset dress. "But, you do look beautiful."

"Thank you," she sighed.

A trumpet sounded, and all heads turned from their conversations to the double doors on the balcony where the two stair cases met. Elena held her breath, watching. The interesting events of the night were just about to begin. The trumpet combined with the quintet in the corner began to play the kingdom's anthem. It had no lyrics and took only three lines, but former soldiers and men across the floor saluted as it played. When the music died down, the floor clapped, before turning their attention to a man who stood in the center of the balcony. It was a man of the Royal circle, who Elena believed to be the Grand Duke, named Zachariah Salvatore. He was first cousin to the brothers on the king's side.

"We have all gathered on this night in celebration," Zachariah said. "What for? Some of you might find yourselves asking this question. Well, if any of you are lucky enough to travel the world, you'll find that societies such as ours have their traditions. Some cultures prepare different food, wear different clothes, and speak in different tongues. They have a different reason for a man to become a man. In some places, a man is a man at the age of fifteen. In others, they become men at sixteen, eighteen, and even twenty one. But for us, in the kingdom of Mystic Falls, a boy is a man when he turns the age of twenty-four. Why do I say this? Well, two months ago from this evening, our eldest prince and future king became a man!" Everyone clapped their hands.

"What is it that makes a man?" The speakers changed. The next to speak was Lady Alexia of Fell's Church, who stood on the very right of the same floor Zachariah stood on. Her blonde hair was let loose, and she looked stunning in her meadow green dress. She continued, "A man can provide for himself and those he cares for, his loved ones. A boy is a man when he'd do anything to protect his people, his village, and his kingdom. A man is not only physically strong, but mentally fierce as well. He can prove himself to be fearless, as well as intelligent. But, what may surprise you is that though all of these combined make the basis of what a man is supposed to be, they do not make up the entire foundation of who a man really is, and whether or not he really is a man."

Once again, the speakers changed. Now it was Lord Joseph, Lady Alexia's brother and owner of the land Fell's Church was built upon, who spoke next. He stood on the left side of the balcony, completely opposing his sister. All heads visibly turned to look at him. "For a man is not truly a man until he can feel. But before I continue on, be aware that my sister and I did not trade parts!" He looked specifically at someone in the crowd, who must've commented when they were rehearsing this speech, and everyone seemed to laugh. "Anyway, a boy is not a man until he can love with a passion, and hate with a fire. Until he is capable of saying and truly meaning the words 'I love you' to the women he sleeps with at night. Until his heart begins to break at the sight of her walking away. Until he admits to his love and compassion. This is a man." There was the roaring of voices and the applauding of hands coming from everyone in the giant room. Elena felt compelled to do it, and Bonnie patted her free hand to the open wrist of the hand carrying her serving tray.

The quintet and trumpet began to play again, a melodic tune, as the double doors opened. First, King Giuseppe strode out in a royal purple cape on his back and golden crown on his head, with as much grace as fierceness that the man could hold in his sharp features, and took a place next to Lord Joseph on the floor. Next came Prince Stefan, wearing an off white shirt under his suit (with all buttons sealed), who took a place next to Lady Alexia. She smiled fondly at her cousin, taking one of his hands in her white glove. Both relaxed against the railings of the balcony as the man of honor countered through the doors and Elena caught her breath in her throat.

Prince Damon was wearing clothes this time; that's all that really mattered for Elena. But in detail, his suit was pitch black and matched his raven hair. Though everything about his look was simple, something he wore made his icy blue eyes pop. Whoa, they were so blue! His face looked humorless, but there was a spit-fire in his irises that Elena couldn't find it within herself to ignore.

She felt a pinch on her arm and jumped. Since she had her right arm locked with Bonnie's left, she narrowed her eyes on her best friend, whose facial expression shared the same seriousness the eldest Prince had shown. "Two things, my dear Elena, which I must say. One, you are staring at that man with a suspicious look in your eyes. Stop. Two, people are starting to talk, and I don't want the subject of their conversations to be you, especially if it is ill willed. Do you understand?"

Of course, the minds of the occupants in the room wouldn't understand her circumstances, and would then torment her for her loyalties to her best friend, who happened to be a maid. Of course, she was a maid as well, but most of them weren't aware of this. It was likely that they believed Elena was Jeremy's cousin, except for Alaric who was informed of her situation. Though she was wary about it, Elena nodded, turning away to get her drink from the table where she left it and going to where Jeremy stood.

He was no longer with his mentor or the Lockwood couple, but instead a blonde headed man and a copper-haired woman. Wait, the woman looked strangely familiar. Elena shook her head at the thought, looking back up at the balcony, for the presentation wasn't yet finished.

Zachariah was continuing on. "The schedule of the night is set. They are still preparing the food in the back, but in roughly a half hour, the dinner will be served. May I remind you all to stay in the seats with your name card? If you have any questions or concerns on the menu of the night, which can be found near the side of the refreshments table, please see one of the servers. After the dinner, the floor will be cleared for a few dances. First, a sciortis, then a waltz, then a minuet. Thank you, everyone, and enjoy your evening!" There were more claps, and again Elena was compelled to follow the example of the people around her.

As people once again began to mingle, Jeremy introduced Elena to his new set of company. The man was Matthew Donovan, who travelled from across the country here with his sister, the copper-haired woman, Victoria Donovan. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Elena greeted as she curtsied.

"The pleasure is all mine," Mr. Donovan said, taking her bare hand in his and kissing it ever so lightly.

They continued on to their conversation. Ms. Donovan had this glum expression on her face that Elena didn't like. Jeremy, however, managed to keep himself entertained with her comments. As Elena studied the air between them, she didn't like where they might lead. Mr. Donovan, who had been insistent on her calling him Matt, would not stop staring at her the whole time. She was insistent on calling him Mister, for it made her a lot more comfortable, and found herself flustered by the attention.

All too quickly, she heard bells, and the Grand Duke, Zachariah, called out to the crowd of people, "Dinner is served!"


	3. The Dinner

Chapter Three: The Dinner

The transition from the ballroom to the dining hall went smoothly. Palace knights dressed in proper attire helped guests to their tables and seats in an orderly fashion. Mr. Donovan personally escorted Elena to her seat, rushing her from the scene before she could wave a farewell to Bonnie on the other side of the room. She pretended to not notice as his hand, placed respectfully on her upper back, ventured a little more south and put a pressure on where it landed. Jeremy walked with Ms. Donovan, and they were stifling their laughs. Elena kept it in her mind, but she didn't like where her brother was heading. There was something about that girl that made her unsettled, not to mention the snobby attitude she had towards her only moments before.

The dining hall was as large as the room they had just come from. One giant chandelier hung from the center point of the ceiling. The walls were made of off white panels rimmed in royal gold. In the south wall, a stained glass painting of the royal palace was displayed romantically. There were seven tables in total. Two round tables, seating about eight people each, were closest to the painted window. The white table cloth on them was illuminated by the three sources of light shining on it: the chandelier, the moon from the window, and two tiny wax candles standing solo on either table. The other five were longer more rectangular and fitted about fifteen people each.

Elena looked around the hall for her seat. She was here only hours ago, cleaning the windows with an old rag and scrubbing the floors clean while her aged apron and clothes got dirty and wet. She smiled to herself. While she was getting ready for this event, Isobel had washed them and they were probably now hanging on a clothes' line at the moment. It was such a scene change. Especially now, as she finished skimming at all the name cards of the rectangular tables, where she expected to be seated, only to find her name was nowhere to be found. The round tables were for people of the Royal Circle. How could her seat be over there? Just as she thought about it, Jeremy called out to her, waving at her and point to a seat in the second round table.

She shuffled over to where Jeremy pointed, coming to the realization that Jeremy _was _of the Royal Circle. He was the soon to be Royal Adviser! How did that manage to slip her mind? At her table, she sat at the ninety degree point to the window, in the only chair that was back to back to another chair in the other round table. The Donovans also sat at the table, making Elena wonder of their connections, as well as Alaric, and four other people Elena wasn't introduced to. Jeremy and Mr. Donovan sat on either side of her, and Ms. Donovan sat next to her brother. A blonde woman sat next to her, and a brunette sat next to the blonde. A two men sat next to her, also a blonde and brunette.

The other round table sat the Royal Family. King Giuseppe sat at the 'head' of the circular table, the seat parallel to the window that faced the crowd. To either side of him were the Lord and Lady of Fell's Church, then the Salvatore Princes. Stefan sat next to Alexia and on the right of the king; Damon was opposing him completely, and back-to-back with Elena. This knowledge sent chills to her fingertips, though it also set her at ease. He had to turn a whole one hundred eighty degrees to see her, and even then it would be the back of her head. And it's not as if he wanted to see her; she was probably the only one that remembered the happenings of this morning. And if he did remember what happened, he wouldn't remember that it was her that the moment happened with. He couldn't recognize her; she was in such a beautiful corset dress now and was in old, dirty rags then. Wait… why was she overthinking this so much?

She took a deep, calming breath in and out as a waiter filled her wine glass with red wine and other servers placed a soup in front of everyone. Okay, now was the part where she stunned everyone (meaning herself) by her amazing table manners. Isobel stressed every night the importance of which fork and spoon and knife to use for what you're eating. _For soup_, Elena thought, _you used the… wait a second. You use the…_ Damn it, was it happening already? The brain spasm you get from nervousness? Why was she so nervous anyway?

_The prince is right behind you and you can't stop imagining his completely bare chest, and all the crazy things you want to do with it, _a thought nagged in the back of her mind. At this, she choked on her own breath, however one does this, and started to cough. There was a patting on her back from Jeremy, and she heard Mr. Donovan question, "Are you alright, Ms. Elena?" She nodded, trying to calm her coughs by slowly sipping on her wine—the closest form of a drink to her. When she was settled and better, his face visibly softened as he said, "Good." Then he flashed her a smile. She smiled back, though she was aware that it couldn't have reached her eyes.

The tables of people then split off into their own tiny conversations as they enjoyed the courses of food as they were handed out and taken away by servers that gave Elena envious stares, for being their coworker and yet taking upon the occupation of a guest and not a servant for the night. She just bowed her head and stared at her food, taking tiny sips of her wine when she felt their stares burning the back of her head. She planned on remaining silent and shy for the rest of the dinner, and staring awkwardly and wishfully at the dance floor afterwards, but when Mr. Donovan kept including her in his conversations with other people around the table, she had a feeling that her plan wasn't going to work.

"So Miss Elena," said the brunette girl, who she found out to be named Katherine Pierce, "Do you draw?" Obviously, she did.

Elena shook her head. "No, Miss Pierce. I don't have the talent. Jeremy, here, is one of the best artists I've ever seen, though I may be a little biased." She laughed to herself, and Katherine only nodded, urging her to continue on. Not knowing what to say next, however, she rushed out, "But I love to read. And to write." It was true. Writing was one of her most favorite past-times, and she liked to think she was good at it. Isobel always stressed the importance of her studies, especially since she could make time for it, and she happened to enjoy writing a lot.

"Oh," Katherine said a little disappointed. Then she turned to Jeremy, "So, _you _draw?" From that, the two branched into their own little conversation, and Elena shook her head.

She felt a hand on hers, and she refrained from pulling it away, seeing as the hand belonged to Mr. Donovan, who was trying to bring her attention back to his. "So you write, Miss Elena?"

She nodded. "That is correct, Mr. Donovan. It's one of my most favorite things to do."

"Please, Miss Elena, call me Matt," he pleaded, with puppy dog blue eyes boring into her, as if he were performing some mind control on her.

She shook her head and laughed at the thought as well as at the hidden meaning of her reply: "I assure you, _Mr. Donovan, _that if you get to know who I am, that you'd be begging for me to do the opposite of what you are now."

"I'm not begging!" he laughed back, with a little edge in his voice. "And I'd like to." When Elena frowned and looked at him with curiosity, he elaborated. "I mean, I'd like to get to know who you are."

Elena felt a lump form in her throat, and she was afraid of coughing up a storm again from his little speech. _He wanted to get to know me? _She thought to herself. _Me? Why me? _She shook the thought away, and only smiled brightly at him. Forget Jeremy and 'Vicky' Donovan; she didn't like where things were headed with the guy sitting right next to her.

"So, Miss Gilbert," said a voice with an English accent. It came from the blonde haired man sitting next to Katherine, whom she learned to be named Niklaus Mikaelson. He liked to be called Klaus, though, and was the Lord of a large estate and many acres of land on the outside of the central boundaries of Mystic Falls, yet it was still within the lines to be part of their kingdom. His sister, Rebekah, was the blonde next to Katherine and his brother, Elijah, was the brunette man next to himself. Personally, Elena believed that he and Katherine had some shared affaires between them by the way he glanced at her on occasion and expected a certain reaction from her during their conversations. "You say that you write. What is it you write?"

"I keep a journal, and document a few entries a couple times a week. That's mainly it, but I fill the void with reading." Everyone in the table seemed to have their attention on her now. "I'm very much enjoying the romanticism in the art and literature of the modern culture. Do you not agree?"

"I do," Klaus acknowledged. "I, myself, enjoy painting. Kat, here, loves to draw. Mainly portraits of herself." To this, the table laughed. "And portraits of others. The cameo around her neck was her own. And from what I can hear, you, Jeremy, are an artist too. I think we can all agree with what you saw." There were nods around the table. For some reason, this calmed Elena, knowing that these people from a normally different class, accept her at least a tiny bit. She was starting to feel a little left out.

The clinking of a utensil to a wine glass from the main table had our table in silence within seconds, which caused a chain reaction to the other five tables. Heads turned towards the direction of the King. "Before we pass out the dessert," King Giuseppe began, "I'd personally like to welcome each and every one of you tonight. I believe this is a little late, but I'd also like to congratulate my son and heir for this moment. My boy becomes a man!" He smiled.

Then Prince Damon stood up. But, sitting right behind him, Elena couldn't see his face and was greeted with another part of his body that would've had that nagging thought in the back of her mind on overload when she turned around. Tonight, she was getting and giving a lot of attention to and from the male gender and Elena found that she was pretty awkward when it came to them. She pressed her raspberry lips into a fine line and her right palm to her forehead. She rested her elbow at the head of the back of her chair, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in.

The prince luckily moved out of the way and occupied the space behind and in between the two circular tables. He had a glass of wine in his hand as he spoke, "I'd like to thank everyone here for coming to day and for honoring myself and my family. I'd like to thank my cousins Zachariah, Joseph, and Lexi for their amazing presentation earlier this evening that I'll be sure to take to heart." To this, the crowd of people laughed. "And I'd personally like to welcome childhood and family friends of my brother and I and special guests of the evening, Sir Matthew Donovan and his sister, Victoria Donovan, the children of Nobile Peter Donovan." People clapped their hands as Mr. Donovan stood up from his seat, resting a hand on Elena's shoulder (making her slightly uncomfortable), but she was too busy noticing the way Damon winked at Vicky Donovan to flinch. Wait…why would he do that? Unless…

No way! Ms. Victoria Donovan was the woman in the prince's bed! That's why she looked so familiar! Elena tried to not let her eyes showcase her discovery, but it was kind of hard.

Mr. Donovan gave Damon a man-hug, as well as one to Stefan when he got up from his seat. "For those who don't know," Damon continued, "Matt and Vicky moved away to France for education, and he came just for this occasion. I really want to thank him for that." His icy blue eyes hovered over the population in the room to see the content look on their faces as they applauded and Mr. Donovan bowed. They stopped when he caught sight of her, and Elena felt a tidbit of unease as he scanned over her much like a person would a statue or a painting. He squinted his eyes for a second, holding her brown ones in a tight grasp, before letting them relax and letting a smirk take up his lips.

The King stood up again and spoke, "Thank you, son, for that wonderful speech." His attempts to hide his sarcasm failed. "Now, everyone, enjoy yourselves as we pass out the dessert! Afterwards, we shall return to the room and clear the floor for a sciortis!" As if on cue, carts full of plates on trays were rolled out as the king sat down. Something made of chocolate was then placed in front of them. Yum!

As promised by both Zachariah and the king, the dance floor was cleared right after dinner and music started to play for a sciortis. It was a quick styled Italian version of the Schottische dance and had partners jumping and trotting open handedly on the dance floor with smiles on their faces. Elena stood on the sidelines, glaring enviously at the flowing movements the ladies' skirts and the graceful steps of both partners. She sighed, resting back and head on the palace walls. She wanted to be asked to dance and to join the crowd of happy people. She didn't think that it would matter who asked her. Jeremy had asked Vicky, and Elijah, the brown haired man that sat next to his brother, Klaus, had asked Katherine. They were flowing across the room as if they were flying.

She took a sip of a new glass of wine. She was drinking little amount, though she knew that overall she was drinking a lot. She didn't drink often. How could she even find time for it? But the wine was relaxing her, making her less nervous with every sip.

"You look bored," a voice to her side said, and she saw whoever it was rest their back on the wall next to her.

"No," she denied, though it was lie, "however, I am a little tired."

"So, would it be a waste if I asked you to dance, with your fatigue and all?" the voice asked. Elena turned her head and gasped. Golden hair and green eyes stared at her.

"Prince Stefan," she said, "it would be a lie if I said that I wasn't surprised. But I am."

"So, is that a yes or a no?"

"Who am I to deny a prince?" she said under her breath, too low for him to hear most likely. He continued to wait for an answer, so she said a tiny bit louder, "Of course, Your Highness." Stefan bowed as she curtsied and held out a hand with a smile on his face, though the arrogance Elena had felt earlier this morning still lingered inches away from him.

"I didn't catch your name," he said a few seconds into the dance. "But you're a Gilbert, correct? Family with my friend, Jeremy?"

"That is correct. Elena Gilbert," she replied during the next couple moves, a chasse followed by more allegro movements.

"Elena," it rolled off his tongue as he passed around Elena, so that it hit her ear like a lingering whisper that sent chills up and down her spine. "And you live in the Gilbert Estate?"

Elena nodded, though it could've been easily mistaken for the bowing of her head that was to take place then. "Also correct," she clarified.

"You're so formal," Stefan decided, stopping in the middle of the dance floor, causing her to stop and everyone else to fix their paths, much to their own dismay.

"Forgive me, I don't have the pleasure of talking to a prince every day," she explained, staring at her feet.

"Well, let me be the one to tell you that not all of us are as scary as my father," he joked, to which Elena laughed.

There was a cough, and both the prince and Elena turned over their shoulders. Matt Donovan stood, looking brood and 'manly' and staring at them with a tiny dose of patience. "Matt, my good friend," Prince Stefan greeted.

"Mind if I cut in?" Matthew asked.

The prince covered his mouth with his hand, trying to block the sound before it reached Elena, though it didn't work. "I'm kind of with a lady, here, Matt," Stefan jokingly said. "But I guess I can ditch her for you."

Mr. Donovan's face was stunned, as was Elena's, but she hid her shock by laughing. "I…er…," he struggled to reply. "That's not what I meant, _Your Highness_."

Stefan's mouth made an 'O' shape. "I see," he sighed. "Well, another time, I guess," he smiled. "But it's not up to me to decide what you ask for. Elena?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," Elena joked, smiling warmly at Matthew. As if on cue, the music for the sciortis died down, and as Mr. Donovan took her hand in his, the slow rhythm and harmonic melody of a violin played solo from the quintet. More couples piled in on the dance floor for a closed-handed waltz. One of his hands rested on her waist, while the other took her hand and held it at the halfway point between the heights of their eyes. Just as her hand rested on his shoulder, all partners began to sway and glide at equal paces and with similar sized steps.

She ignored the hungry look in his faint blue eyes and the way they always ended up staring at a certain spot on her neck. She honestly wasn't used to this look, and it didn't exactly 'disturb' her, only made her instincts come alive and become sharper. When she did catch him staring, she would turn her head the other way, hiding that spot and causing him to avert his eyes. But when they turned to the more exposed part of her chest, Elena just about it inside.

She broke the silence in the weak bubble around them and said, "So, Matt, are you from Mystic Falls?" The information she got from Prince Damon at Dinner and the information she got from Jeremy, Vicky, and himself sort of clashed together and confused her. Did he go to France or just across the country? How did he know the Salvatore princes so well? Though she wondered, she didn't voice them just yet.

"Yes, I am. I was born and raised here until the age of sixteen, when my father, Nobile Peter Donovan, passed away. My mother shipped Vick and me to an old family estate on the far side of the country. At eighteen, I left to study at a school in France. My sister, who was twenty at the time, came with me. We recently moved back to that Estate, which is where we currently reside. However, coming back here I find that I miss home terribly and if I go, there will be other things that I'll miss." By the look Mr. Donovan was giving her, she knew exactly what he was talking about. "Elena…" he breathed through his teeth, stopping their dance in its path. She had enough momentum to fall over, but his grip on her waist and hand were too tight to let her do such a thing.

When Matthew Donovan leaned forward, Elena didn't know what to do. Stop it? Let him do it? She'd never kissed a guy before, and she didn't want to right now. Would stopping it be rude to his title? Would letting him do it ruin what little to nonexistent reputation she had. What would happen to Jeremy? These questions raced through her mind, and she had a feeling that the questions in her mind before wouldn't be answered.

What happened next was the most surprising thing that could've possibly occurred at that very moment. A cough; who would've thought that it would be a cough that saved her life? This cough made Matthew stop in his tracks, and both turned their heads over their shoulders as Elena and Stefan had done when Matt had interrupted them. There, Elena gaped at icy blue eyes and raven black hair, and there was a silhouetted voice that ringed in her head.

"Do you mind if I cut in?"

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for commenting and following this story! I have so much in store for Damon and Elena. For those of you familiar to the story Tess of the D'Urbervilles  I am roughly basing this story off of that. Obviously, it's going to be different, but it just gives some of you a guess. **

**I'd like to give a shout-out to my best friend, Allison, for liking this story. Even though its her obligation as my best friend to like it. o.O Okay, if I think anymore into this, I'll get depressed.**

**Random Rant Over. Love you guys!**

**~KSM**


	4. The Cinderella Moment

**Yay! I updated. I wanted to yesterday, but a storm made the electricity go bye-bye and I was too tired to do it by the time it came back up. I was a little emotional when I wrote this, so don't hate me afterwards. Oh, and the italicized print that's centered are all flashbacks of the night before. I wrote it like this for a reason, but sorry if it's confuzzling. :P Read on!**

Chapter Four: The Cinderella Moment

"_Do you mind if I cut in?" Elena was still gaping at the sight to actually realize he asked the question. Gears started to turn in her mind, and she finally got to thinking. Matt Donovan stared at him, astonished. Elena knew what was going on in his thoughts. 'Are you seriously cutting in right now?' was what she expected to find. But Prince Damon just stared on at the both of them, confident in his question and possibly even baiting Mr. Donovan for more of a dramatic reaction._

_She nodded her head, only half-conscious to what that actually meant for her. As he took her hand in his and pulled her away from Matthew, Prince Damon smirked so seductively, her insides transformed into jelly and she pretty much died. She smiled up at him as they got into position (with his hand gripping her waist tightly and her hand resting on his strong and muscular shoulder) and counted the beat of the waltz in their heads._

Elena woke up happy and content the morning after the ball. Happy and content and…at seven o'clock! She heard the clock tower of the palace ring for the hour, and she cursed under her breath. She was late! She got up and out of bed and rushed to her dress. Her eyes lingered over to the corner of her room, where her beautiful corset dress rested messily against a small chair and next to her full-body mirror. She didn't have time to look at herself in it, for she was out the door as soon as her rags (now clean, thanks to her mother) were on her. She didn't see her mother or Jeremy on her way out of the Estate. Both were probably still sleeping. Both had the luxury.

Elena normally would on a Saturday, like it was today, but there had been a ball. A magnificent, fairy-tale ball. She had to help clean everything up, for everything was surely a mess. And, worst of all, she was late!

She ran as fast as she could. A fault of living at the Gilbert Estate while being a maid of the palace: her home was on the opposite side of town to her work. She ran passed the market place, navigating through the maze of people and into all the shortcuts. She didn't get time to admire the smell coming from the bakery like she did every other morning, but it blew passed her as she scurried. She couldn't reply to the friendly villagers that greeted her with a good morning, even though she knew these people pretty well like Mrs. Flowers, who was training her pig while she said 'hi' to Elena. She was too much in a hurry for anything.

When she reached the palace campus, the clock hit the half-hour mark. Rose was going to kill her! She ran across the field surrounding the south side of the castle, her feet aching and her breath getting tough. Thank god she was no longer in her corset. Soon she was at the cobble stone steps that led down to the underground service floor, so she could get a couple rags and fill a bucket of water so when Rose does catch her, she won't decide to kill her or worse, fire her, right away.

She went up the service stairwell to the main room, which was plagued with trash and dirt everywhere. Two other maidens—Mary, a pale red-brown haired girl in her early twenties, and Lucy, a cousin of Bonnie's—were scrubbing the floors and walls, and Elena got on her knees and joined them. She dipped a rag in the bucket, twisted it to release the excess water, and started to rub a spot on the floor where a men's shoe made an impression of dirt. She couldn't stop staring across the entire floor, reminiscing about everything that happened the night before.

_The violinis__t played a long G sharp. Damon led Elena through the dance, never keeping his eyes off of hers. In the back of her head, that nagging voice was screaming at her to be a little more realistic. Obviously his intensions aren't as pure as she would've liked. Just this morning, he was in bed with Vicky Donovan. It didn't make sense that he'd like her. But she wasn't in the right mind to listen to that voice. She was too distracted by the blue oceans that were his eyes. They continued to glide across the dance floor, with their focus on only each other. They were in their own worlds, and for a second, Elena was happy. Content._

Voices echoed through the room, bringing Elena back to the present. All three girls looked up from their silent stares at the floor in front of them to see Rose, with a couple other maids. Her hands were on her hips, a bonnet in her hair, and she looked so clean, as per usual. She was paid the most, and had to do the least amount of work. She wore her long brown hair down and messily. A glum smile occupied her face. "Look who decided to show up," she said, staring pointedly at Elena. "You're friend covered for you, but I didn't buy it. You think that you're so important just because you got to go to the ball last night. You're not, because here you are, on your knees and cleaning up the mess you caused last night." She laughed, then bent down so that she was only a couple inches above her. Elena didn't want to, but she dragged her pupils up to look into her eyes as she said. "Seeing you like this is just too great to fire you right now, so you're off the hook. But…" Rose reached across Elena and pushed her bucket of water so that the contents spilled over the floor. "Oops."

She let out an evil laugh before she finally walked away. The maids behind her followed her, giving her sympathetic glares that she really didn't appreciate. As all of the faded out of the room, Elena groaned in frustration, so much so that she probably would've kicked the bucket down herself if Rose hadn't beaten her too it. Oh, how she despised Rose! She was the reason for part of her life being hell! When she stood up, her knees were off balance and felt awkward being so wet. She had to drain her skirt onto the floor before she went back down to the service stairwell to the service floor to get a mop.

There was a long hallway she had to walk through to get from the main room to the service floor. She countered through, with her head hanging on her neck, feeling so heavy. She had made the mistake of getting used to the luxuries of last night, and it had cost her. She was going down a dangerous path, she knew, for everything changed in one night out of years of hard work. Was she really going to risk the future her job provided for Jeremy on some wishful thinking? Yeah, she couldn't be a pessimistic thinker, but being optimistic was proving to be a lot worse. She had to be something a dreamer like her refused to be. Realistic.

But that dreamer side of her occupied most of her, and while she knew she had to clean up the act it took too short a time for her to develop, she couldn't help but think back to all the beautiful moments last night gave her, which sent butterflies to her stomach and chills to her spine.

_He whispered something softly in her ear, "You look beautiful." She flushed a deep red, to which he only grinned. She replied with a small 'thank you' as they went along with the melody playing around their heads. They were in their own reality. Everyone in the crowd around them blurred into a darkness that singled the two out into their own little universe. Only them, and this moment. Could it get any better? Though, that tiny part of her was screaming louder and louder. _"This is wrong! Don't fall for his tricks, Elena!" _She knew, however, that she wasn't falling for his _tricks_ per se. She looked deep into his eyes as she decided that she was playing a much deadlier card. She was falling for _him.

She was too stuck in her daydream to notice the body in her path, so when she hit it, she was shocked. She stumbled back, falling on her butt, but luckily landing on her hands. She groaned in frustration, a little too loud, before she realized who she bumped into. "Oh, I am so sorry, Lady Alexia," she rushed to her feet.

"You should be," the Lady said, brushing off dust from her corset dress, before looking up at Elena. "Wait…" she thought about it for a moment. "You look familiar," she decided. "Yes, I'm quite sure you do." Alexia tilted her head a little to the side before both females turned their heads in the direction of a new voice, one that allowed the Lady's shoulders to relax while Elena's back tensed and her brows furrowed.

"Cousin," it had said from all the way down the hallway, coming closer and closer towards them. "Are we ready?" And just Elena's luck, it was the Prince Damon. The moment her eye caught his, she wanted to take it back. She wanted to, instead, hang her head low and scurry down the hallway towards the service floor in shame, for that's how much looking into his amazing blue eyes hurt her. It was because of what she saw, and though she didn't know exactly what it was that filled those icy orbs, she knew that she didn't like it. Was it regret, anger, or confusion? Possibly a mix of all three? Instead of smiling at the memories that flowed into her head at the moment, she frowned. Liars, she called them as she recalled every happy thing of the evening before.

_Elena knew it was a dangerous path to go on, falling hard for someone like him. A prince. A man whore, too. And yet, there she was, dancing with him like her life depended on it and staring up at him as if he were the golden light of God himself. Since when did she, Elena Gilbert, become such a damsel in distress? So weak, so dependent on another body? She hated the feeling that succumbed her with so much pleasure at every silky touch of his fingers on her skin. They sent electricity through her nerves._

_Damon stopped in his tracks, and Elena couldn't help but frown. They were done? It was then that she once again noticed that they were surrounded by other people and other couples on a dance floor where the music for the waltz had died down. She curtsied as he bowed. But while she took this as a goodbye, the prince had other ideas and grabbed her by the wrist just as she turned on her heal to walk away. They hastened through the single ladies giving Elena death stares and men giving the prince glares of envy and other idle people that questioned the two's actions in their heads. If only they knew that Elena didn't even know what was going on! She only went with the flow, happy that her night with him would play out for a little while longer, before it would sadly drop to an end._

_But before the prince dragged her completely out of the room, she caught the stares of three people, grouped together in what seemed like a conversation, only their lips were all opened as they gaped at her and the prince. In the split second it took for the view of Jeremy, Matt, and Vicky to fade into the mysterious scenery of wherever Damon was taking her, she processed Vicky's scowl, Jeremy's hand placed too far down of Vicky's back, and Matthew Donovan's envious and angry stare. Though she should've, she seemed to not have cared. _

_In the center of the palace was a giant garden enclosed by three walls and a double door that took the place of a fourth wall. The Mystic Gardens, it was called. Tiny patches of soil were covered in roses, blue bonnets, lilies and a million different plants that one wouldn't except to see in such an enclosed location. Elena had been in the Gardens once, when she visited the Castle at the age of seven with her father one morning. Now she was in it again, with a completely different man, but it still looked just as beautiful and breathtaking as she remembered it to be. _

"_You're different," Prince Damon had said, breaking the comfortable silence that filled the air between them. _

"_I'll take that as a compliment," Elena then laughed, looking down and around at the flowers while tucking a loose hair behind her ear though it didn't quite stay. _

"_You should," Damon replied. He gently tugged at her chin, forcing her to look at him and pretty much killing her with those eyes of his and the smile he had currently worn on his face, before fixing the loose strand of soft brown hair. It then stayed neatly behind her ear for good. They stayed there just staring at each other for a while, before he broke their trance. "So many people now a days are too masochistic and obedient, with no mind of their own. You just seem more…more real. Does that make sense?"_

"_Yes, I guess it does." It was true, that many people just do as they're told and deal with it, never really knowing what it was like to make a decision for themselves and themselves alone. But was she really an exception? She highly doubted that, for she spent a lot of the time working for 'the man', but she didn't voice these opinions aloud. She only waited to see where the prince was going with this. _

"_I don't know. Maybe it's the pressure that's making me feel this way. Trapped. Like everything is being decided for me. I have to choose a bride and all." So this is where he was going with this. "But I don't necessarily get to choose anything, because I'm a prince. People assume that I get every luxury known to man, and that's almost true."_

"_Almost?" she asked._

"_Almost," he continued, "because I admit to having more material things than most people out there. But with all this fortune and prosperity comes a price you have to be willing to pay, and I'm not sure that I am." He looked sadly at the floor between their cloth covered legs, before turning back up to search her face. "I apologize for pushing this onto you, Miss Gilbert."_

"_No, please, it's not a problem at all. I'm a good listener," she said honestly. "But what is the price you have to pay?"_

"_My freedom."_

"Look who finally decided to show up!" The Lady exclaimed. "I've been waiting."

He ignored her question and went straight for "What do we have here?" Damon whispered, not taking his eyes off of Elena (which made her uncomfortable, instead of joyful), to Alexia.

"I'm sorry, my cousin. It bumped into me in the hallway," Alexia whispered back to him. Elena could hear their whispers; she wasn't deaf. She stared awkwardly at the thickening air, suffocating those in the hallway. Wait…wait a second. _It? _She wasn't an animal…

There was a reason why Elena didn't just run from the embarrassing, and well as tear provoking, moment, and that was because it was rude. She was a maid, and her company was not of her equal, therefore she had to be dismissed. Why didn't they just do it already, instead of allowing her to feel bad? She shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"What is it you want?" Damon asked her directly. Deja vu moment. He had asked that to her before, the first time they met yesterday morning. It was actually kind of hard for her to think of it.

"Nothing, actually, _Your Highness_," she said, probably a little too cold. But hey, it most likely mocked his perfectly! She wasn't crazy; the events of last night did happen, and this was the obvious reaction to his cold shoulder towards her. "I just meant to go downstairs and accidentally bumped into the Lady." She challenged him with her stares.

"Clumsy fool," he said, adding salt to the wound. Elena let that sink in, before nodding her head in denial and stepping back. Once it was said, she noticed the clear regret in his eyes for saying it, but it wasn't enough for him to take it back.

Elena stared at the two of them, with tears she tried to hide behind her lids, but she wasn't sure whether or not it worked. "Excuse me," she whispered, thought it hardly even audible, before she walked away from the scene. Traitor tears slid down her face as she ran down the hallway and stair case to the service floor to get the mop to clean up Rose's mess. Looking, today was not as kind to her as yesterday was.

When she got the mop from the closet, she scraped her hand with a loose nail on the poorly made wooden door. "Damn it!" she cursed aloud. She grabbed a rag from the wooden table I the center of the floor itself and wrapped it around the deep cut on her palm, putting as much pressure as she could on it before she collapsed on the floor and rested her back and head on the cobble stone wall. The mop she had held in her well hand followed her down to the floor, beating against the hard rock floor like a drum. The damn her eyes had built had broken, and the tears she held in flowed out in rivers. She knew not to fall so quickly; she knew he was a dangerous kind of guy. And yet…

"_Your freedom?" Elena then asked, honestly curious._

"_Yeah. Everything is planned for me. Though I am completely capable of making my own thoughts and decisions, my father makes them for me," Damon clarified. He sighed, moving in closer to her and resting a palm on her knee. "It doesn't help that I'm rebellious and ridiculously good-looking by nature," he continued, making her giggle. "But Stefan is the golden child, whom my father obviously loves more. I don't care; I love my brother. I only wish that people would stop making a comparison between us. I may not be the perfect prince but neither is my brother."_

"_You should tell someone this, someone that actually thinks this way," Elena gave her opinion. "I mean, I don't think of you negatively, and I am really in no position to judge."_

"_Enough about me," Damon declared. "What about you? There was something in the wine that makes the truth come out to total strangers. Now, it's your turn to tell all and everything."_

"_Me? Well, there's nothing much to say, actually, except that I can relate to what you were saying about not getting to make your own choices. But it's not so great with free will either. Especially when the worst thing you can imagine happens for real, and you're forced to make a choice that will decide you whole destiny," Elena explained, thinking back to when her father died. "But I guess that's just life."_

_They both shared a sigh, and once again shared a sideways glance. This time, though, the moment lingered on, until both bodies scooted in a little closer as if they were polar opposites of a magnet. He didn't take is eyes off of hers as he took the lead and leaned in, while she froze. Another guy was planning on kissing her this evening. The prince, no less! She panicked in her head. Would she let him?_

_When his soft, plush lips brushed hers gently, she felt a knotting in her stomach. This is what it felt like to kiss someone. One small kiss turned into a second kiss that lasted a little longer, and all of a sudden, her back was resting against the cement bench they were occupying. Passion filled both bodies until there was nothing left but the stars above them and the ground below them._

_The palace bell tower ringed for the hour passed midnight. Elena realized one thing. _

_She was no doubt screwed for the rest of eternity._

And, with the cut on her palm and reddened face, she knew that, in the end, she was right.

**I said don't hate me! I'm sorry! I had to! I love Damon, but I just _had _to write it like this. You'll see why later on...**

**Love you all!**

**~KSM**


	5. The Suitor

Chapter Five: The Suitor

It wasn't easy trying to convince Rose to let Elena leave that night. Not only did she 'make a mess all over the Main Hall' but she had a meltdown in the service floor for 'no apparent reason.' Bonnie had found her and had given her comforting hug and a pep talk. "I don't care who he is, that damned boy would've dragged you down to hell anyway," Bonnie had told her. For some reason, that had made her laugh, and return to the Main Hall to finish the mess she allegedly creates. When she had gotten there, Rose was furious and raging at the other maids. Their innocent, startled faces glared at her with anger when she walked inside the room, but she only greeted them with smiles that didn't reach her eyes before going back to work. Rose wanted to keep her working late for this.

Though she knew it was the best idea for her job to stay in the Servant's Cottage that night, she knew that she wouldn't be brightly welcomed. So, she walked the however many miles to her estate. Bonnie offered to sacrifice her tired legs to make the journey with her, but Elena only shook her head and said 'no.' Bonnie had never been to the Estate and had never been formally introduced to her family. Elena was sure Jeremy didn't even know she had a friend as good as Bonnie, or he did, and didn't care to ask about her. Whatever; fine with Elena.

They had boiled potatoes in a tomato based sauce for dinner that evening. They ate in utter silence until her mother asked Jeremy about his day. He then began to note every detail of his morning through afternoon. Elena tried not to flinch when she heard that Damon and Lady Lexi met him at the stables on the Gilbert property, or cringe when she heard Damon rode Sommers, her favorite horse. He proceeded to talk about his lunch with the Donovans. Then he turned to Elena and said, "Matt asked about you."

Isobel's face lit up like the many candles on the chandelier. "Mr. Donovan?" she asked. "What did he say about her? What did _you_ say about her?"

"Apparently," Jeremy started, staring into Elena's eyes, "you made an impression on him at the ball last night. He wants to see you again."

The noise that came out of their mother's mouth compared to a pig's squeak, high-pitched and obnoxious. She was all too excited, while Elena stared at the scene with no emotion. In the back of her head, she knew this was coming. Mathew Donovan took too much of an interest in her for this not to happen. He was going to court her, though she didn't understand why she was any better than the ladies of households that matter. She was a Gilbert, but not of the Circle, and not of any high social class. She was a maid.

She was lowering herself down, not for Mr. Donovan, she realized, but for Prince Damon. She was hurt. He kissed her one day—stole her _first _kiss one day—and treated her so terribly the next. _I am not an 'it', _Elena had told herself repeatedly when she arrived to her house, and once again told herself as she thought about it at dinner.

"How does that sound, Elena?" Her mom asked, shaking Elena out of her own thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Honestly, Elena, it's not lady like to not pay attention," Isobel scolded. "I was saying how lovely it would be if you and Mr. Donovan spent some time together tomorrow after church. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

_No, I would not, _she thought, but she kept it to herself. Instead, she nodded.

"Brilliant!" her mother exclaimed. "Do you hear that, dear Jeremy?"

"Hear what, mother?"

"_The soft sigh, the maiden's cry_

_Throughout the black night_

_Be a day's wed, a soft hay bed_

_Silent till daylight," _Isobel sang with a breathy voice, like the folding and unfolding a linens or as if it carried with the wind, such as a poet would recite his own words. "Truly, a beautiful verse. Don't you agree, Jere? I can see it now!" she squealed again. The boy's eyes widened noticeably as he came to grips with her meaning and responded with only a nod.

"Mother," Elena began, nervously, "What can you see and how _exactly _do you interpret that song?"

"Oh, nothing for you to worry about, Elena." The smile on her face was still there. Elena's nervousness slowly became fear. "I think we're done here. We should all get some rest before church tomorrow, especially you, my daughter. I have a feeling tomorrow will be eventful, and you need your beauty rest to prepare." Elena gaped at her mother, who seemed to be oblivious to the distress she was causing her own daughter. "Go on, Elena! Stop looking at me like a cold fish and get to bed. And you, Jeremy, help me with the dishes. As you are aware, Saturday is Maria's day off."

_The damn demanding woman_, Elena thought, walking up to her bedroom. Just because her mother requested she go to sleep early doesn't mean she actually would. It's not like she was a disobedient daughter, or normally she wasn't, it's just that what her mother had hinted during the dinner had alarmed her so greatly that every little sound throughout the night prevented her from slipping away into slumber.

The next morning seemed rushed, maybe because Isobel was running around and barking orders to the inhabitants of the house from six a.m. to nine a.m. "_Have this dress cleaned for Elena". "Can you make this for dinner tonight?" "Elena! Jeremy! Get up from bed and get ready!" _The only thing stopping her from going on was their much necessary attendance to Fell's Church, for Jeremy had a speech to read at the rally and Isobel had a devious plan to get Matthew Donovan and Elena together.

But her stress could be a result of news that Elena had just heard that morning. Her cousin was to arrive this evening from her studies in England. The town beauty of their childhood, Caroline Forbes, was as smart as she was pretty, as witty as she was blonde, and as well-mannered as she was demanding. She was basically a whiter, brighter version of her aunt, and her perfection secretly annoyed Elena. She hadn't seen her since they were both twelve, before her father died and she had to take upon work. Taking upon this news of her soon-to-be arrival, Elena gained a new fear of her many current ones. How would Caroline react to her now?

She decided that she would face this new fear when it came, as for now, she had to deal with her mother and a certain possible suitor of hers.

Isobel's plan was to get Jeremy to convince Mr. Donovan of how bright an idea it would be if the two young Gilberts and the Donovan siblings sat together during the sermon. Not only did this include Elena sitting next to Matt and holding his hand during certain songs, but it also involved sitting with the rest of the Royal Circle. It was nothing new for Jeremy, but Elena had only come to grips with the idea of her being included in the Circle at the ball, only a couple of nights ago. Not to mention, the other gentlemen that sit in those reserved seats include a certain raven-haired prince. Needless to say, Isobel's plan worked and, ironically, Elena was sitting in hell while she was in church.

Three men kept taking turns staring at her. Like when they danced, Matt stared at one spot on her neck, possibly being as ignorant as to believe that she didn't notice. Prince Damon, who sat only five people away from her (compared to the normal 200 or more), glanced her way every couple or so minutes with an expression on his face that she couldn't decode, but when could she ever? The third man was Jeremy, who she was actually okay with for he was possibly the only person in the room—excluding Bonnie, who was most likely in the back rows—that was on her side. He gave her apologetic looks, knowing that she was not enjoying herself as much as she should've.

After the sermon, which Elena couldn't concentrate on through its entirety, Matt escorted Elena outside. They were followed by Jeremy, who had Vicky hanging onto him like a lost puppy, and met Isobel, who Jeremy then introduced. They exchanged formalities and then their mother left them with a sly smile on her face, giving Elena a wink before she walked back to their estate.

"I am so sorry about mother," Jeremy whispered to her. "I tried…"

"It is okay, Jere," Elena reassured. "You can't expect a mother with an unmarried daughter of my age to act any differently." Then she laughed, before joining back with Matthew Donovan, who was conversing with the younger Salvatore prince.

"Oh, if it isn't the beautiful Miss Gilbert," Stefan cooed admiringly. "It's very nice to see you again."

"Same with you, your Highness," she replied. For the rest of their conversation, she remained quiet, gazing on at nothing in particular, until Mr. Donovan took her hand in his. At this, she stared and their joined hands, not exactly sure of what to do. So, of course, she imagined her mother's wink before she left and decided, much against her better judgment, to not do anything at all. Instead, she looked up at him, gave him a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes (not that it mattered to him), and let the men's conversation continued.

Quickly enough, they were joined by two more people, the eldest prince and Lady Lexi. _She_ gave Elena an awkward stare, obviously recognizing her from the afternoon before and wondering how she could score a seat in the Royal Circle during church. _He_ tried not to stare at her, which she was thankful for, for he gazed at her for most of the hour earlier. He did, however, stare at her and Matt's intertwined fingers. He didn't even try to hide how he clenched his jaw and began to burn holes into their hands, and Elena found this fact a tad bit unsettling, enough to drop his hand and rub hers against her dress.

Matt bowed and she curtsied at their arrival. The men continued their conversations while Lady Alexia only nodded her head at every other comment and Elena stared blankly at the space between the two princes' shoulders. All the while, everyone kept staring. Staring was a pretty big thing in the county, she realized. Why else would everyone just constantly _stare?_

Before they knew it, the courtyard was empty and the clock tower of the Church stroke twelve. "Would you look at the time," Stefan commented. "We should head back to the castle for lunch."

Damon and Lexi agreed. They stared at the other two, who stood rather awkwardly at their disposal. It was then when Jeremy joined their group with Vicky Donovan. They asked them if they wanted to join them for lunch. To this, he reminded his sister of their cousin's arrival, gave the rest his apologies, and dragged Elena from the scene.

When they got home, Elena ran as fast as she could manage in her heels and long skirted dress up the stairs of their estate and to her bedroom. She let out a loud breath full of relief.

She had peace! Sort of. She had her mother waiting for her to tell her _everything, _her cousin who would be joining them pretty soon, and her suitor who was sure told knock at their door later today. Besides those, she was in the comfort of herself. Of quiet. Of solitude.

For now.


	6. The Cousin

Chapter Six: The Cousin

"Elena," Isobel knocked at her door. "The carriage has arrived."

It was the carriage that could change everything. It held a beautiful blonde maiden in its grasp and made the journey from wherever to here, in the maiden's hometown of Mystic Falls. The maiden could take a look at her and laugh and shun and disgrace the whole of the Gilbert line. She could tear her to pieces with snobby looks and snarky attitudes geared in attempt to make her cry. She could make Elena's life miserable all throughout her stay in their estate.

Or she could be the same, heartwarming Caroline that grew up with her.

"I'm coming, mother," Elena replied. She had been sitting at the foot of her bed, reading some novel she found in the little library they kept in their home. She set it down on her bed, and somehow managed to get up, walking towards the door. Then down the stairs. Then outside. It was such a short distance, but it felt like a long journey. Was it the worry she had on her shoulder? What else could it be?

"Elena!" She heard the voice; it was high and dream-like. It belonged to the beautiful blonde popping out of the carriage. Her curls were smoothened into a bun on her head. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight.

It was weird. She had called to her out of the three of them first.

"Caroline!" Isobel called to her. She was walking towards them from the carriage; the coach was pulling out and riding away by this time. "You've grown into such a beautiful young lady."

"Thank you, Aunt," she replied, looking slightly uncomfortable. She exchanged formalities with Jeremy, who acted a bit awkward towards her. Then she turned to Elena, wearing a beautiful white grin on her face.

"Now _you,_ cousin, look absolutely stunning." She gave Elena a hug before turning to the rest of them and asking, "Shall we go outside? Mystic Falls has gotten extremely hot from what I am able to remember and I do not wish to submit you all through it just for me."

"Of course. Yes, of course!" Isobel replied excitedly.

"So, dear Elena, we have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?"

Caroline and she were sitting comfortably in the drawing room after their dinner. Elena looked at her cousin in the dimness of the candlelight with a curious look. "I guess," she replied.

"You don't sound so sure," she laughed. "Well, let's just talk then, alright? What did I hear at dinner earlier about a suitor? Your mom had a glowing expression on her face."

"Oh," Elena said. Of course she would be curious about that. Her mother wanted to bring up Church and Matthew Donovan, but Elena had shushed away the topic, which must've brought it to Caroline's attention. "Well, there was a ball Friday night, and Jeremy's mentor introduced me to a man and his sister. He's taken quite an interest in me."

"By the fall in your voice, I take it that that's not a good thing?" She was so curious…

"He's a little… frightening." Once she said it, she immediately took it back. "No. That's not the right word. It's not intense, either. But it makes me a bit uncomfortable." She pictured Matthew Donovan's face, and it sent chills up her back. His clinginess. His crazed blue eyes. They were…just too much. She couldn't handle it and didn't want to be put into a situation where she would be forced to.

"I see. Does this indescribable suitor of yours come with a name?"

"First, he's not a suitor in my eyes, only my mother's. That doesn't count. And yes. It's Donovan."

The look on Caroline's face was priceless, but it also scared her. Her green eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Donavan? As in Matthew Donovan?" she asked pretty loudly.

"Yes…" Elena replied. "You know him?"

"Know him? In my dreams. But he is the cousin of one of my friends, and his family owns land adjacent to ours."

"Interesting."

"Indeed. I hear that he is gorgeous. Are the rumors true?"

"Well," Elena started, "if you can get passed the crazed eyes, then yeah."

"Oh, Elena, I doubt he's that bad! What is the real reason behind your animosity for Mr. Donovan?"

Elena thought about it. Could it be that it was all too soon? Could it be the vibe he gave off? Could it be Prince Damon?

She practically slapped her hand off when she thought that. Why would it be because of Prince Damon, the rotten, arrogant, privileged monarchic figure? She swoon and swayed, yet shivered at the thought of him, the image of his face. And the way the image made her flush and feel… No! She didn't want to… She _refused_ to believe that it was because of the prince.

It meant that she actually _liked _the embarrassment he made her feel when he was in the same room.

And the entire refusal meant that too.

She sighed and shook her head. "I'm not sure," she lied.

"There's another, isn't there?" Caroline inquired. How the hell did she do that? Damn nosy cousin.

Elena remained quiet.

"There is! I could see it in your eyes when we were outside this afternoon!"

"What? How?"

"You looked a bit flustered," Caroline admitted. "You know, the kind a flustered that happens when..."

"Okay, I get it. I don't understand why that is though. There's no one like _that." _

Caroline's eyes, if possible, began to sparkle even more. "Not yet," she said very vaguely.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. Mother is set on pairing me with Mr. Donovan at any and every event or hour, even if there is none for me to be paired. She sat me with him during church today, and left for him to take me home. Luckily my brother was there to save the day."

"Oh, you poor thing," her cousin mocked. "Do you know how many girls would kill for the opportunity you have?"

"I'm aware. But many girls are willing to sin for nothing in that case, because there _is _nothing to the man!"

Caroline took Elena's hands in her own, turning her face so that they stared directly into each other's eyes. She kept searching in her big, brown doe eyes. Elena stared into the blonde's perfect orbs of blue.

The two were so different. Caroline's mother was Elena's father's sister. That family had a blonde gene and Caroline was gifted with the perfect match of highlights and lowlights and bases. She was also pretty white, with rosy coloring in the perfect places. Through Isobel, Elena gained brown hair and olive skin, which was considered a little less attractive apparently. It made her feel less attractive.

"Whoever this mysterious suitor of yours is, you shouldn't let whatever you have cloud your good decision-making. Don't forget your and your family's situation, Elena. I don't pass any judgment when I say this, because I am proud of you because of it, but you are a maid. Mr. Donovan comes from a wealthy family full of aristocrats. Yes, love is important, but so is your wellbeing. You have to decide what's more important." Caroline continued to stare at her for a few more seconds before letting go of her hands and walking out of the room, leaving Elena stunned.

Caroline had no clue what she was talking about. She didn't know Prince Damon well enough to _love _him, but if marriage were on the table regarding him, and according to Caroline's logic, he would be a better fit for her. He was, after all, a _prince. _

But marriage and love were not on the table. In fact, the table was completely cleared, with the exception of a small tea-cup saucer, holding the time when she walked in on him half-naked, and the time when they kissed in the flower garden. That was it.

Caroline's words still made her think, though. Marriage for _Damon _wasn't an option, but if she didn't act quickly, neither would a marriage with Matthew Donovan. There were so many benefits to a union with him; her family's reputation would be saved and she would live comfortable, never having to work in that castle with those people again. And if that ship were to sail, she'd never have comfort. She'd probably marry at twenty-six, bear nine children, and be a farmer's wife. Her family's legacy would rest in the hands of young Jeremy, and she didn't want him to have to deal with the burden.

There was a faint circle of light shining off the wall; the source was a candle that must've been coming from behind her. She looked to see her mother standing at the room's entrance, already in her night-gown.

"Elena, dear," she whispered, "you should be getting ready for bed. You don't get enough sleep as it is, darling."

"What time is it?" Elena said, furrowing her brows.

"Nine o'clock," Isobel replied. "I also forgot to mention that Mr. Donovan requested your company tomorrow. The whole day." There was a hint of excitement in her voice that she tried but failed to hide.

"Mother," Elena started, "I'm not sure how I feel about him."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm not blind. But I'm doing this for you, and hopefully, with time, you'll make the right decision. Now come on. Blow out that candle and get ready for bed."

Unknowingly, her mother just added _more _weight on her shoulders.

_**A/N: It's short and crap. I'm aware. This chapter was pulled out of my butt pretty much. I just couldn't write it! I wanted to go right passed it and to the good part. For me, The chapter right before the action is the hardest to right. Yup, that means action pretty soon. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, but here you go :/**_


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